


Pale Blue Eyes

by grapeboy



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: A bit poetic, Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 23:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17032245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grapeboy/pseuds/grapeboy
Summary: Dele goes through his morning routine, remembering the end of his relationship with Eric.





	Pale Blue Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> \- The italics are flashbacks  
> \- Based on Pale Blue Eyes by the Velvet Underground (each section is based on a verse)  
> \- Sorta free verse at some points?  
> \- I wrote this in the middle of the night so I apologize for any dumb mistakes

The cold air scraped Dele’s skin and the air coming from his hurting lungs formed clouds in front of him. The beads of sweat rolled down his face and into his eyes, making them sting. He didn’t mind these tribulations as much as he normally did. He needed this run, to feel his heartpumping blood through his limbs and not a nervous patter expecting the event today. _The Event._ He didn’t want to name it for fear of confirming it, even if it was all well past that. _It was over long ago…_

 

_A clear crisp day. The few leaves on the trees around the pitch wavered in the slightly breezes. Eric stood in front of Dele, staring at him with that sad look of his._

 

_“Del—“ His voice cracked and he ran his hands through his hair. His eyes were shiny and he kept looking up to avoid the inevitable falling of the tears._

 

_“Eric, I’m sorry. We knew this was a possibility.” Dele was calm and composed. He’d made his decision a few weeks ago. He didn’t want to drag it out. For Eric’s sake. Yeah, for his sake._

 

_Tears were running down Eric’s cheeks. He wasn’t making an effort to hide it. Or any effort to do anything at all but look up at the blue sky. His hands hung loosely at his side, a football tucked under arm. He was still, his eyes blinking were the only movements he made. Dele looked at him, doubt creeping into his fingers. His hands started feeling cool and his heart felt floaty._

 

_“I need to go.” Dele said. He hated Eric’s silence. He was furious about it. Eric was always silent when Dele needed him most. He was tired of it and annoyed by his secret smiles he wouldn’t explain. Dele wanted to rip the words out of him with force. The blood rushed to ears and he bit his tongue and narrowed his eyes._

 

_Eric looked down at Dele, his eyes red and steely. “Go.” Hallow._

 

_Dele left him there, staring at the parking lot. Dele didn’t look back. It was too late. The damage was done. It would have never worked. It would have never worked._

 

* * *

 

 

“1 minute left” a chipper voice from his phone told him. He took a deep breath and sprinted, his muscles screaming at him. But the sick feeling in his stomach wouldn’t go away. He collapsed on the ground with tears, sweat and dirt mixing on his face. He pounded the ground with his fists until small rock sized cuts were on his hands. He sat up and the wind whipped around him, making his cheeks redden and numb. _Hah Delboy you’re the only one who can make me laugh like that._ He squeezed his eyes to keep the memory from coming but it did.

 

_They were sitting, leaning their backs on a snowbank. Dele was wrapped up, head to toe. Big warm coat, two thick pants, three scarves (one of which was Eric’c). Eric’s skin was crinkled around his eyes, his face was red from the cold but his smile exhuded warmth._

 

_“You wanna build a Poch-man?” Eric shook his head and Dele noticed the snow in his hair._

 

_“Why not? A creative challenge is always good.”_

 

_Eric took his hands. “You seem very cold.” His smile grew and he took Dele’s hands and kissed them before putting his own hands around them._

 

_Dele leaned in closer, “I am very cold.” His eyes were peaking out of his scarves and hat and hood wrapped around his face._

 

_Eric leaned in and kissed the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be here to keep you warm.”_

 

He had probably said something along the lines of how cheesy Eric was being, _please honey, I’m lactose intolerant_. But now Dele just wanted that twinkly Eric again.

 

* * *

 

Unlocked, keys hanging by the door, hat off, upstairs, shower. No music today. The shower was scalding against Dele’s cold skin and bloody knuckles. But the steam healed his lungs and deep breaths brought him back into dark shower where reality only partially existed. He hummed a tune, not recognizing it, hoping he would discover the song soon. He scrubbed off every part of his body, squeaky clean. He had to be squeaky clean. Dumb Dumb Dele get a hold of yourself, get a hold! His mind spat out half sentences and words he had never used before.

 

_The first months of practice after they broke up, Eric was as far away from Dele at all possible times. Dele sat at the front of the plane, Eric sat in the back. In the weight room, Eric swam laps near the window and Dele did reps by the door. Previously inseparable, now only separate. Two halves wandering without the other._

 

_It was a 5v5. Dele and Eric were on the same team. It had been 3 months. First time they had been closer than 10 meters from each other._

 

_“Alright,” Harry said, patting them on the back. They had Mousa and Jan with them. “Let’s do this.”_

 

_The shouts began. I’m here! I’m open. The laughter, the nutmegs, the goals. Close game. Teams were tied. Eric had the ball and there was the perfect opportunity. Would Eric do it?_

 

_They made eye contact, the first time in three months. Sad but kind blue eyes with mischief. The man he fell in love with._

 

_Then._

_The nod. Which said more than words could._

 

_BOOM beautiful pass, beautiful header. Dele and Eric. Eric and Dele. On the pitch together forever. Off the pitch, a brief word would suffice._

 

_But_

_that was progress._

 

Dele dried his hair and looked in the mirror. He forced a smile. He could support his teammate today. Eric deserved it. Then he remembered the song which he was singing the tune from: Pomp and Circumstance. _I love Eric Dier. And—_

 

* * *

 

 

Dele walked into his room and saw his suit hanging in the window. It was spinning very slightly with the air from the heater, like a fairy in a music box, almost comical but almost creepy. He rushed over to stop it from moving.

 

_“Eric!” Dele ran to catch up with him. Eric turned around and took his earbud out of his ear. He put his lips together and looked expectantly at Dele._

 

_“Are you nervous about playing against Sporting?” Dele’s voice wobbled._

 

_Eric seemed to have forgotten how to speak to Dele. For a second, panic lighted his eyes but then…he smiled. A small one but not fake._

 

_“Nah. It’ll be more fun for me than anything. Good to be back home.” He turned away and they started walking together, towards the plane. “Get ready for some good food, Dele. England has nothing on Portugal.”_

 

_Dele laughed, sadly, he was not quite sure why. “I’ve been to Portugal before.” Oh oh right, he remembered when. Blue oceans, sand between his toes, Eric under his arm._

 

_The memory was not lost on Eric. “Yeah, right.” The pause, the awkward pause. “Well, looking forward to beating my former club with you Dele!” He grinned, this time forced. He sat down next to Jan and gave him a parting salute._

 

_“Yeah.” It was all Dele could manage. So much for unspoken communication and never an awkward moment. So much for best friends Dele and Eric. Whoever thought of love is no friend of mine._

 

Dele looked at himself in the mirror, all dressed. Hair cut yesterday at 3pm, suit ironed this morning at 3am. Sleep was for the weak and ones with no regrets. Dele studied himself. The bags under his eyes, the redness of his cheeks, the hair with no strand out of place. He was presentable physically. Not ready to talk but ready to smile like nothing had ever happened.

 

* * *

 

 

Dele stood at the corner of the large room by the table of food and drinks, a prime location. The band played a slow song and couples leaned and swayed with each other. Dele took a sip of his glass of champagne. He was content here, an observer of this spectacle.

 

“Dele!” The groom ran over, his cheeks flushed and smile big. His pale blue eyes twinkled.

 

“Eric!” They embraced. “Congratulations man!”

 

“It means so much to me that you could come.” He had his hand on Dele’s shoulder and was looking in his eyes. Dele could not match his stare and looked down at his napkin and then around at the party.

 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” He said. Eric kept looking at him. His concerned eyes, studied Dele’s face. The same one that had sweat and tears running down it. The same one that pressed itself into the ground to avoid the image of him. The same one that had been washed, squeaky clean. The same one, studied by Dele for this exact moment, when Eric would see through him, like he always did.

 

Eric opened his mouth to say something. Dele waited, waited, hoping for something, he didn’t know what. Something to conclude all the feelings he felt today. Some sort of closure, he thought he had had but never fully gotten.

 

But Eric shut his mouth and nodded. He patted his shoulder. “Good to see ya.” He walked away, swallowed by the sea of swaying couples as the band played. Dele chugged the rest of the champagne and listened:

 

_Linger on your pale blue eyes_

_Linger on your pale blue eyes_

**Author's Note:**

> \- hope I didn't bum you out too much :)  
> \- comments are appreciated!


End file.
